


Giving Voice

by Minxie



Category: Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minxie/pseuds/Minxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agron has desires. Nasir would have them put to voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giving Voice

**Author's Note:**

> **Prereader:** @shinyredrain  
>  **Disclaimer:** Not mine, good lord. But I will gladly play with them as if they were.  
>  **AN:** Because @isolde_13 and I demand it be so.

Given a day for nothing, Agron escapes to the shade of the tree line. Alone, he lets his mind wander to the cravings that he does not allow himself when with others, with Nasir.

"What is plaguing you?" Nasir asks, dropping down beside Agron. 

Startled from his thoughts, Agron gives over a small grin. "If I said nothing?"

"I would ask why you frown when we have a moment's peace from the battlefield." Nasir cants his head to the side, drags a hand over Agron's shoulder. "There is nothing you cannot say to me."

Except for Agron there is. He will do nothing that will remind Nasir of his days as a body slave, days when free choice was nothing but a dream the was not dared to be dreamt. 

Brushing his thumb over the base of Nasir's neck, over the trace of a scar left behind by the constant rub of his collar, Agron shakes his head. "Some are better left in past. I would not have my words bring unpleasant memories."

Nasir reaches up, his fingers following the same path as Agron's. "Not all memories are unpleasant."

"And yet you have marks to prove otherwise." Agron pushes to his feet, reaches a hand out to Nasir. "Leave this."

"As you wish," Nasir replies, his words in opposite to the look in his eyes.

Agron knows they have not finished. They have simply delayed the necessary to a future time. He accepts the small peace with gratitude.

* * *

Days pass and Agron relaxes, believing that the matter has been lost to the new battles they find themselves in. He is proven wrong when, as they're washing away the taint of Roman blood, Nasir says, "It is the feeling of a man between your thighs that you miss. Him pushing his cock into your ass."

"Nasir," Agron hisses, the sound more broken and needy than he would have. "You make assumptions."

"Do I? I was a body slave," Nasir replies. "There are not so many deeds that would remind me of my past." Lips quirking, he adds, "I have no complaints to those we frequently partake in. I would believe that to remain true with the others."

Agron drags a finger over Nasir's jaw. "I shall not request of you that which your dominus demanded."

"Nor would I have you ask," Nasir says. 

Despite the innocent words, Nasir's brazen look has Agron's cock stirring in anticipation. He finds it justified when Nasir adds, "I would rather see you beg for what you desire, as I begged you in past."

Mouth gaping and cock swelling to uncomfortable, Agron watches as Nasir, a smirk playing about his lips, disappears into the crowd.

* * *

His cock is going to be the death of him. Swelling at unfortunate times because of nothing more than a simple touch, or a knowing look. How Crixus and Spartacus, and especially Gannicus, do not notice is beyond Agron's ken. Only one other appears to know the predicament he keeps finding himself in. The smug curl of Nasir's lips is confirmation to that fact.

"One word," Nasir whispers into Agron's ear. "But for one word, your suffering would end."

"You play with fire," Agron grunts. 

"I do." 

The easy agreement baffles Agron. "Why?"

"I fucked on command under the threat of a lash. I lie with you because the Gods have permitted me the freedom of choice. Choice extends beyond which we do now." Nasir places a hand on Agron's shoulder and smiles. "I would have you give my words thought."

Nasir isn't far from his grasp before Agron pushes to his feet and follows. The raucous laughter of his brothers does nothing to slow his steps.

* * *

Following Nasir into their tent, Agron says, "I would not wish to remind you…"

Cupping Agron's cheek, Nasir silences him with a gentle brush of lips. "Being in your arms only has me recall the day I found freedom. Nothing more."

Groaning, Agron drags Nasir closer and takes a kiss. It is tender and brutal at once. It's a clash of teeth and tongue filled with eagerness and excitement, hope and need. A reflection, Agron believes. A reflection of them. Of their life, their war. Their bond.

Pulling back, Nasir licks his lips and whispers, "I should still see you beg."

"For you," Agron says, stripping away the straps of leather and lengths of cloth. "For you I would beg."

Nasir twines his fingers with Agron's and pulls, leading them both towards the thick pile of blankets serving as their bed. "I would satisfy myself with you giving voice to your desires."

Dropping down to the pallet, Agron frowns. Expressing his desires has never come easy, he's too accustomed to deferring first to his family out of love and then to the dominus out of a need to survive. "Begging would be an easier task."

"Perhaps," Nasir says, settling in the space between Agron's legs. He busses a kiss to Agron's knee, then, mouthing the words into Agron's skin, says, "It is your desires that are most precious."

"For you," Agron says again, determined to give Nasir what he longs for. 

"For us," Nasir murmurs. "For _us_."

Before Agron can offer a response, Nasir leans in and nuzzles – _bites_ – along the sharp edge of his hipbone. He drags his tongue over Agron's cock, then lower to his balls. Words and thoughts skitter beyond Agron's reach. His hands fist into the blankets beneath him and a deep, stuttered moan breaks from his throat. 

The scent of perfumed oil fills the air and Agron's muscles tremble, the expectation – sweet, wanton, _overwhelming_ expectation – burns through the tight rein of his control.

Pleasure races through Agron as Nasir's fingers invade his ass. Too much time has passed since he's allowed himself this and his need explodes over his skin in sharp bursts of fireside heat. He widens the spread of his legs and, planting his feet firmly, cants his hips higher, opening himself as much as possible. 

Arching his back, Agron grinds down, relishing the sting of being stretched around a cock again. There will be a day, he tells himself, when he will not need to be coddled and doused in oil to receive Nasir into him. A time when he will welcome Nasir easily whenever the mood strikes. Taking a deep breath, he says, "More."

"Yes," Nasir murmurs.

Nasir pushes Agron's thighs further apart, the pull of his muscles sparking bright behind Agron's eyes. He sets a lazy cadence of pulling his hips back, then thrusting forward again with the same slow pace. The torturous beauty of it, the drag and pull of _in_ and _out_ and _in_ , drives a hissed curse out of Agron. " _Fuck_."

The noise of the camp fades to a distant hum, replaced with the sound of skin against skin, coming together and apart and together again. Agron loses himself, loses time itself, in the act of loving, of being loved by, this man, this warrior. By Nasir.

Nasir grinds down, forcing his cock deeper into Agron's ass, and orgasm crashes over Agron, catching him when he least expects it. It's larger and grander than the clash of a thousand swords and the roar of the arena crowds combined. 

It's like nothing Agron has ever experienced. He says as much, minutes later when Nasir is curled on his chest, their bodies slick with sweat and seed.

Nasir looks at him and smiles. "For me as well."

Time ticks off silently. Then, dragging a hand over Nasir's back, Agron whispers, "Beloved."

"Mine as well as yours," Nasir replies, pressing a kiss to Agron's chest.

Closing his eyes, Agron grins. Like each rise of the sun, giving voice to his desires now holds new promise.

*


End file.
